The Story of Us
by Riddler-of-Words
Summary: Prompt #3: For the first time ever, Arthur was glad he continuously broke his number one rule: don't think about Ariadne. Ariadne
1. Chapter 1

It's a miracle. I have updated in less than a month! I have become obsessed with Ariadne and Arthur from Inception and to celebrate it coming out in TWO DAYS, I'm posting this early to get everyone pumped up for the movie release. If you haven't seen the movie, I'd suggest going to see it. It's really good in all aspects, not just the Ariadne and Arthur part. This will be a group of oneshots based on ideas and prompts.

Written for the prompt: Ariadne and Arthur bonding through one of them getting hurt by the enemy by capture, escape and then comfort with a lot of angst.

Warning: oneshots may be extremely short or extremely long. Some will be rated Mature for a reason, others not so much.

Disclaimer is on my page.

/|\

The street was swarming with people out window shopping. It was almost Christmas after all. Ariadne could feel the cheerful Christmas vibe from people as she walked down the sidewalk but oddly enough, she didn't feel it herself.

Snow sprinkled her vision with white, mixing with her icy breath as it escaped her mouth. She was tempted to blow out as hard as she could and watch her breath disappear into the sky, but decided against it before she succumbed to silly childlike tendencies.

A man passed her, his head tilted down and Ariadne thought nothing of it until he glanced back at her, his eyes meeting hers with intent.

When he turned the corner, she was inclined to do the same because this was no accident. Something inside of her told her to walk in the opposite direction, to avoid this man because he was danger. But for some strange reason, she decided to follow him. The phrase curiosity killed the cat came to her mind but she brushed the thought aside.

He walked into a café a couple of streets over, heading for the booth in the back corner. Ariadne hesitated right outside the door, but a woman coughed behind her and Ariadne opened the door before she could register what her hands were doing.

Warmth washed over Ariadne's face, returning feeling to her numb nose and fingertips. She rubbed her fingers as she headed for the back corner booth, sitting silently across from the man. He continued to look at the menu for another moment before glancing at her over the top of it.

"Didn't think you'd follow me," he casually commented, his eyes flickering back to the menu. He frowned in thought, contemplating what to get, Ariadne guessed.

She opted not to respond, her throat heavy as her heart beat erratically in her chest. Why was she here again? The temptation to get up and leave made her stomach churn. She shouldn't have followed him. The next time a stranger urged her to follow him, she was definitely walking in the opposite direction.

The man's eyes found her again after setting down the menu. He didn't wave over a waitress. The act made something in the back of Ariadne's mind sound alarms, but she couldn't place her finger on it.

"We need your expertise," the man finally said after another minute of staring at her. It unsettled her how his eyes took in every feature of her face as though he were committing it to memory. As far as she knew, she might never see him again after this.

"On what?" Ariadne asked, her gut twisting in suspicion. She strongly hoped he wasn't talking about her skills as an Architect. The palms of her hands became clammy and sweaty and she buried them in her jacket pockets to try in an attempt to calm down. Her fingers curled around her totem.

"You know what." The man's voice had gone from neutral to hard, hard as the ground beneath her, hard as the totem in her—

Ariadne's heart froze, her blood chilling in her veins. She kept her face emotionless, hoping her eyes remained confused and curious to mask the building fear inside of her.

The man continued to stare at her intently, his eyes failing to understand her own recognition.

"I'm just a college student," Ariadne tried, her hands shaking in her pockets. She clenched her totem in her right hand, finding little comfort in its sharp ridges.

The man chuckled, his face losing its edge for a moment. Ariadne fought the urge to flinch at the unpredictability of this man. It scared her to know that she could possibly be in a dream with a man she didn't know. It scared her even more to know that when she woke up to reality, he might be there as well.

Ariadne forced herself to smile. She glanced at the counter and abruptly stood.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom then we'll discuss what you need my expertise for," she informed him before heading towards where the bathrooms were. The man didn't stand up to follow her but opted to watch her from his perch in his booth. She could feel his eyes burning into her back, the tension between them, but she didn't dare make a run for it.

By the time she was down the hallway and in the bathroom, door locked, her heart rate had calmed slightly. With cold, sweaty hands, she took out the totem and crouched down, placing it on the floor. She tapped it lightly, hard enough that it should have tipped over. Instead, it wobbled, back and forth, until it settled.

With her heart in her throat, Ariadne stood and placed her totem back in her pocket. She stared at herself in the mirror as she tried to figure out what to do. The reflection of her face showed her panic, her face pale and her lips turned down in a frown. It was likely that when she woke up, he'd be there too, so running would be pointless.

A knock on the door startled Ariadne, making her breath catch in her lungs. Without a plan of action, Ariadne opened the door, crying out when she was shoved backwards. Her back connected with the wall with a smack, her knees giving out as she sunk to the floor in horror.

The man loomed over her, his eyes darker than she remembered. His lips were set in a disappointed frown, one that made her skin crawl. This had seized being a dream and was now a nightmare.

"Thought you could run Ariadne?" the man mocked, smirking when Ariadne flinched in realization that he knew her name, that he knew more than what he was letting on. "Well, you can't. But you already know that. I give you credit for trying, though."

"What do you want from me?" Ariadne forced her voice to remain strong, to not tremble like her hands were clenched at her sides, her knuckles white.

"Like I said before, we need your expertise." The man went to the door and made sure it was locked before coming back over and crouching in front of her. "If you're good enough for Cobb's crew, then there must be something special about you."

Ariadne's mouth went dry at the mention of Cobb, of the past. Unwillingly, Arthur's face appeared in her head before she could stop herself.

No, forget the past. It's over and done with, gone. They left you to adjust back to normal. After showing you what was possible, they disappeared to continue on while you were left staring at their backs as they faded away.

Ariadne pushed the piercing thoughts from her mind.

"Hit a sore spot, did I?" The man sneered at her, pulling out a gun from under his jacket. "Now, let's get out of here, shall we?"

With the barrel aimed at her forehead, Ariadne should have been terrified. And she was, but not at the bullet that would be lodged in her skull, but at what she'd find when she woke up.

The gun fired before she could prepare herself for the unexpected.

/|\

The hotel room was bright and nicely furnished with golden arches on the walls and dark wooden panels.

The kick brought Ariadne back to reality with a shock, her lungs struggling to find air as she gasped, her head lulling to the side on the couch. It was difficult to think when her mind felt as though it was filled with water, slow and murky.

"Rise and shine, sweetheart." A man loomed over her, his face marred with a scar down the left side, the other side covered in stubble. Ariadne knew he was trying to sound nice, like a good guy, but even in her muddled state she didn't believe it.

She pressed her lips together and forced herself to remain quiet, ignoring the odd sensation of being alive when she'd just been shot. Her vision swam before her eyes, something that has never happened before. The drugs must be different than when she was with Cobb.

Stop it, she scolded herself. Focus on where you are now, not where you were.

With a slow blink, Ariadne looked around the room, her eyes focusing on the man sitting up from his spot on the bed. He looked the same as he had in the dreamscape, his dirty blond hair disheveled and his gray shirt wrinkled.

His brown eyes snapped to her as he stood. The bright light bounced off his face, helping Ariadne memorize every feature.

"Get her up," he demanded abruptly, stepping closer as the man with the scar on his face grabbed her upper arm and hoisted her up. Black dots danced across her vision from standing too quickly and her legs gave out, making her stumble.

Scarface's grip on her arm tightened, causing Ariadne to wince as he dragged her to the dining room table and dumped her in a seat carelessly.

The blond haired man sat down across from her, making a tent out of his fingers on the table's surface. The dark wood reflected back their reflections and the blaring light overhead.

"Now, back to business," the man lazily drawled, his eyes flickering up to Scarface who stood behind her chair as though she was going to try and make a run for it. She wanted to laugh at the thought. Like she was going to try and escape when her mind was still hazy.

But it was clearing, slowly but surely. All she had to do was bide time until the right moment. She wiped her sweaty hands on her jeans secretly, her eyes glued to the man in front of her.

"We need an Architect to help with the extraction of information," the man continued while leaning back in his chair, "A one of a kind Architect."

Ariadne's mouth went dry and it took her several swallows to speak. "Extraction of information from whom?" she asked hesitantly, trying hard to ignore the excited tingle of going back into the dreamscape business. But the excited feeling disappeared when her mind and heart caught up with her. The only people she wanted to be in the dreamscape with were gone, had disappeared in the airport over a year ago.

"The President of the United States of America."

Ariadne's eyes widened before she could compose herself. Arthur's face flashed before her eyes and for the first time she openly admitted to herself that she wished he was there, his hand reaching inside his jacket for the gun that lay hidden there.

But he wasn't and she was all alone.

/|\

"NO! Let go of me!" Ariadne slammed her fists against Scarface's chest, trying to break free. She twisted her arms, ignoring the searing pain as her skin bruised under his rock hard grip. It proved useless as he pulled her backwards towards the couch, tossing her onto it easily with a glare.

Faintly, the clock on the wall ticked in the background. It started to chime as the hand hit twelve, resonating in Ariadne's ears and making her skin crawl. She'd always viewed the dreamscape as a place of beauty, magic even, but now, she saw it as her own personal hell.

Never before had she been forced into dreamscape; it'd always been a choice, one she'd taken easily and freely.

Without thinking of the consequences, Ariadne kicked Scarface in the groin. She didn't wait to see the look of pain on his face or to see what Blondie was up to. Her feet were carrying her to the door before she could register that she running.

There was yelling behind her as her fingers unlocked the door and wrenched it open. Someone grabbed her shoulder but she twisted away, her elbow coming up and connecting with flesh. A curse rang in her ears as she sprinted down the hallway, a magnificent golden carpet under her feet and chandelier lights swinging overhead.

The elevator comes into view, the golden doors sweeping shut and reflecting back her panicked face. Her finger punched the down button just as the doors shut, her heart threatening to pound out of her chest.

For a moment it seemed as though the elevator had gone to a different floor, but the doors suddenly opened. Shouts could be heard behind her and she squeezed through the barely opened doors, her fingers shaking as she pressed the close button rapidly. It seemed to take forever to close, shutting off the two men running towards the elevator with the promise of revenge on their faces.

Exhaling the breath she'd been holding, Ariadne pressed the ground floor button, praying that the elevator will bring her to it before her kidnappers get there. It did and her eyes darted around the foyer as she hurried for the door.

No one stopped her as she exited the hotel and started down the street. She was a couple of blocks over before she stopped and hailed a taxi, her mind too frayed to think about where she'd go.

"Where to miss?" the taxi driver inquired as Ariadne slid into the backseat, her eyes roaming the unfamiliar faces outside the window, hoping that they stayed unfamiliar.

"Just drive," Ariadne demanded softly, her hands folded in her lap as the world picked up speed outside the window. Her hands had seized shaking. "When I figure out where I'm going, I'll tell you."

/|\

It took Ariadne exactly two minutes and fourteen seconds to recognize where she was. If the French billboards didn't give it away, the Eiffel Tower in the distance certainly did. It brought back pangs of longing that she'd tried to bury, old memories that she had put in a box and shoved into the back of her mind.

What stumped her, though, was how she'd gotten from Italy to Paris without knowing it. When had they jumped her and drugged her? How long had she been out before they put her in the dreamscape?

It scared her knowing she didn't have an answer for these questions.

An idea popped into her head suddenly and she leaned forward and gave the driver an address, hoping she had remembered it correctly.

When the taxi slowed, Ariadne was greeted with the familiar sight of the warehouse washed in the glow of the street lamps.

The taxicab driver turned around, his eyes expectant of payment. Ariadne dug through her pockets, relieved to find her wallet in the inside pocket of her jacket, right where she always kept it. She took out some money and handed it to him before exiting the car. It moved down the street and disappeared around the corner, leaving Ariadne alone in front of the warehouse.

The thudding in Ariadne's chest made her want turn around in leave. It would have been so easy to do if it Scarface's face didn't suddenly flash before her eyes, making her shiver at the realization that someone was after her and she was all alone.

With that thought, Ariadne dug out the key buried in the soil next to the path leading to the main door. It had been Arthur's idea. No one would think of digging around for it and Ariadne hated to admit that he was right.

The warehouse was just as Ariadne remembered a year ago. The looming shadows and musty smell brought her comfort that she didn't think she'd feel as memories flashed before her.

Her fingers clutched the hair at her temples, her eyes wide as she took in everything. The lawn chair caught her eye, making her breath catch. Without thinking, she approached it and sat down, the plastic molding to her shoulder blades in a familiar way.

With a sigh, Ariadne closed her eyes and pretended that she was sinking into her dreamscape, Arthur right next to her, his head tilt towards her with his eyes focused on her before they fluttered closed.

Ariadne sat up with a sigh, her eyes snapping open as she stood and headed for Cobb's old office. Dust was everywhere, blanketing every surface, even the windows.

"Please let there be something," Ariadne muttered as she started to rummage around, disappointment building when she found nothing.

A thin hand slammed the desk in anger. It was old fashioned with a board that covered the feet area, shaking when Ariadne's palm met the surface.

Ariadne stared at the chair she'd seen Arthur sit in so many times for hours, researching information on their heist. The doorway that Eames would perch himself on and make snappy comments to whomever his eyes landed on first.

An idea was forming in her head before she could register that she was moving. She seemed to be doing that a lot, following her instincts and intuition, something she'd never done before she'd discovered the dreamscape.

Getting to her knees, Ariadne peered under the chair, her heart jumping when she saw a small piece of paper folded into a square peeking out of a tear in the corner.

Exhaling loudly, Ariadne pulled the paper out of the tear and unfolded it, sitting back on her heels as she read.

Ariadne,

1-756-529-8990

Arthur

Reading it again, Ariadne wondered if Arthur had been waiting for her to call him, if he'd thought that she'd eventually seek him out. She wanted to laugh at how on the dot he'd planned this out. Her eyes found the phone on the desk, the receiver covered in dust. She stood and picked it up, relieved to hear the dial tone in her ear.

Halfway through dialing the number, a crash came from the front of the warehouse. Inhaling sharply, Ariadne quickly finished dialing the number and grabbed the phone, pulling it under the desk with her.

With a racing heart, Ariadne desperately waited for Arthur's voice on the other end. She wanted to cry, an odd sensation she hadn't felt in a long time.

"Hello?" The deep voice washed over Ariadne, making her trembling hands still for a minute. Her ears picked up voices in the warehouse, coming closer, harsh sounding, hurried.

"Arthur," Ariadne whispered, her voice breaking as she heard footsteps outside the door of the office. Her breath caught in her lungs, making it difficult to breathe. They passed by the door, heading further down the hall without pausing.

"Ariadne?" Arthur suddenly sounded worried, something Ariadne wasn't accustomed to. "Ariadne, where are you?"

"Paris," she told him, her mouth pressed against the speaker, afraid that they'd hear her if she talked any louder. "In the warehouse. These men, they want me to help them draw information out of the Presi—"

"There you are."

Ariadne screamed, the receiver slipping out of her sweaty palm as she was dragged out from beneath the desk. Blondie winced at the shrill of her voice as she punched out, her fist connecting with his jaw.

"Will you stop doing that?" Blondie bit out angrily, his hands snatching her wrists forcefully to prevent her from doing more harm to his face. His nose was bright red and turning black and blue, her earlier struggle having rendered his nose broken.

Ariadne cried out as nails dug into her skin like hooks, preventing her from escaping.

"No!" Someone pulled her hair away from her neck, baring the skin of the back of her neck. She felt a sharp pinprick and her stomach dropped, dread filling her. Not again, please, not again.

The room slanted sideways as Ariadne fell to her hands and knees, the receiver next to her left hand. She could faintly hear Arthur shouting on the other end, helpless to what was going on and she went to grab it.

Blondie's hand appeared in front of her face as he grabbed the receiver. "Speaking?" he asked mockingly, his smirk making Ariadne's stomach roll. The urge to be sick overwhelmed her as her forehead touched the ground, her surroundings fading in the corner of her eyes. She tried to fight it, but it was too strong.

"Ahh, Arthur, it's been a while."

Ariadne wanted to punch Blondie in the face for dragging her into this, for forcing her to drag Arthur into this. As black dots consumed her vision and mind, she clutched the piece of paper tightly in her hand, promising herself that she'd be damned before she let anything happen to Arthur.

/|\

The skin on Ariadne's shoulder burned easily under the hot metal. Her teeth clamped together to keep from screaming, but it broke through anyways, echoing throughout the blaring white room with mirrors for walls. A fireplace roared in front of Ariadne, failing to warm her frame as her body shook both in pain and a bone chilling coldness.

"How about now?" Blondie asked quietly, his fingers playing with the top of the metal rod. The bottom of the metal rod shone a bright red, some parts yellow, others white.

"I'm not going to help you," she muttered through clenched teeth, her head hanging forward and her hair pooling in her lap. She weakly tugged at her wrists bound behind her to the chair but the rope cut into her wrist bones and made her inhale sharply in pain. Faintly she wondered if the pain would ever stop.

Blondie approached her making a tsking noise. He reached out and twirled a piece of brown hair around his finger, failing to see her flinch or the glare she sent through the curtain of her hair. What she would do to have a knife to saw his fingers off with.

"Do you really think you have a choice in this anymore?" Blondie questioned as he tugged on the brown strand. "I'm just being nice and trying to coax you willingly."

"That'll never happen," Ariadne spat, surprised at the hard edge of her voice when her body felt as though it were falling apart. "Never," she added to reinforce her point.

Cold fingers brushed the hair over her shoulder, baring her neck to him. The hot rod pressed down hard on the skin. She could smell burning flesh, cloth, and hair as her nails embedded themselves into her palms. Her voice rose in pitch as she swore at him and cried and eventually she was pleading, begging for him to stop dragging the searing metal down her spine.

"I'll stop when agree to help me," Blondie yelled over her screams of pain and horror and hopelessness.

"No!" Ariadne grunted, realizing too late that her teeth had cut her lip open and that blood was running down her chin, mixing with the sweat and tears.

She took in her broken frame in the mirror, her face smeared with sweat and blood and tears. Smoke rose from the tips of her hair in some spots, singed from the rod. Her chest heaved in agony but her lungs couldn't take in enough hair. With each ragged breath her back burned, the pain unbearable. She'd never felt this much anguish before, didn't think she ever would.

A door opened behind Ariadne. Blondie put down the metal rod on the table next to the fire and disappeared behind her. There were murmurs that she couldn't make out over her own harsh breathing and the heartbeat in her ears. Her eyes lifted to stare in the mirror, her breath catching in her lungs as surprise overtook her before the heart clenching pain of betrayal kicked in.

The man strolled over to stand in front of her, all too painfully familiar.

"No," Ariadne whimpered as her head turned to the side in refusal to accept that he was standing in front of her, her voice choking on the lump in her throat as tears welled in her eyes. "No, Arthur."

He crouched down in front of her, his brown eyes level with hers, his face a solemn mask. With long, lean fingers Arthur reached out and stroked her cheek, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Ariadne blinked several times before she concluded that Arthur wasn't a figment of her imagination.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here to save you but I can only do that if you help him," Arthur asked her softly, leaning closer until Ariadne could feel his warm breath on her face. The pain seemed to evaporate from her body by his close proximity. She forgot where she was, that Blondie was looming behind her. "We're all on the same side. If you help him, you'll help me and yourself."

Something felt wrong. Ariadne's gut twisted and alarms rang in the back of her mind, but she couldn't think of what.

"But it's the President," Ariadne argued quietly, her eyes unable to leave Arthur's face. His hair was slicked back, just like she remembered it a year ago.

"He's a bad man." Arthur knuckles grazed her temple. His fingers were cold and stiff. Ariadne had always thought of Arthur as warm, never stiff, always ready for action.

"He's a bad man," Arthur repeated, his knuckles running down her jaw soothingly. Ariadne found herself nodding before she could stop herself. If she helped him then Blondie and Scarface must not be as bad as she originally thought. Arthur was a good man, trustful.

But still, Ariadne found it hard to believe that Arthur would help such evil people. It'd been over a year since she'd last saw him, though. People changed, simple as that.

Arthur exhaled heavily as he straightened, his eyes moving to Blondie behind her. Without a word, Blondie cut the ropes binding her wrists.

Ariadne rubbed her wrists in relief, wincing as her back erupted in stabbing needles of pain that made her sight go blurry.

"We've still got some time left so let's get to the details, shall we?" Blondie said giddily while he rubbed his hands together in excitement.

Ariadne stood with a gasp, her body aching everywhere, some places worse than others. With trembling knees, she tried to step forward but they gave out. Strong arms wrapped around her, holding her upright.

The nagging feeling in the back of her mind was back. Something was off, way off.

"Thank you." Ariadne pulled away and rubbed her arms, suddenly so much colder than before as realization dawned on her. With a burst of adrenaline, Ariadne approached the fire and grabbed a metal rod off the table, pleased and terrified to find the edge sharp, sharp enough to pierce skin.

Turning, Ariadne found Arthur and Blondie staring at her in caution. Their eyes followed her hand as she went to reach into her pocket, faltering when she noticed she wasn't wearing her jacket. Her totem was gone.

"You're not wearing a tie," Ariadne informed Arthur, a fake one in this dreamscape (or at least she hoped it was a dreamscape). Without her totem, she wasn't one hundred percent sure, but she knew that Arthur would never forget to wear a tie when he was wearing a dress shirt. Never.

Without pausing, Ariadne lifted the metal rod. Her back screamed in pain, making her taste blood as her vision swam. Her arms didn't shake as she plunged the rod into her chest and straight through her heart.

Arthur and Blondie were yelling as they ran towards her. It all happened in slow motion as Ariadne's eyes drifted shut and her heart stopped beating.

/|\

There was a flash of pain in Ariadne's body as her eyes snapped open. She gulped in air as her hands clenched at her chest, the pain unbearable. Then it was gone, along with the remainder of the dream. She was back in a hotel room, one as extravagant as the last one but different.

Standing, Ariadne tore the wire out of her arm and stared at Blondie and Scarface out cold on the couch. She was tempted to punch them, but opted instead to head for the door, a plan of action forming in her head. The warehouse wasn't an option anymore. Getting on a plane would take too long and driving by taxi would cost too much. The only option left was to take a train, but to where?

Someone's hand grabbed Ariadne's hair, making her scalp explode in sharp pinpricks. She didn't realize she was screaming until her back hit the wall and her teeth snapped shut, cutting off her scream and enveloping the room in quiet. Her knees felt weak but she forced herself to remain standing, preparing for the fight.

Blondie was staring at her with a ferocious glint in his eyes as though he wanted to strangle her and she didn't doubt for a second that he would. His hands clenched and unclenched, his knuckles quickly turning white.

He was right in front of her, his hands wrapped easily around her neck as her nails clawed at his face and arms, when there was a knock on the door. Scarface stared at it uncertainly before heading over to it and opening it a crack to peer out.

Ariadne jerked as Scarface stumbled backwards and tumbled to the ground, the back of his skull blown to pieces and all over the carpet and wall. She hadn't even heard the gunshot, the exclamation of Scarface as the life slipped out of him.

Blondie jumped away from her and disappeared down the hall and into another room, looking for an escape. The door of the hotel closed softly, the click resounding through the room like the gunshot that should have earlier.

Ariadne's eyes moved upwards in both disbelief and relief. She took in the shine of his shoes, the dress pants without a single wrinkle, the impeccable dress shirt with the tie down the center, the serious face with the intent to finish the job, and the slicked back black hair without a hair out of place.

Arthur's brown eyes, darkened to a near black, found her as he walked briskly past her and down the hall. His lips were set in a frown of concentration, his eyebrows creased slightly. The gun in his hand was deadly and dangerous like the man holding it.

Muted gunshots could be heard. Ariadne wasn't an expert with guns but she knew that the guns had silencers on them, keeping the rest of the hotel oblivious to what was going on in one of their rooms.

Ariadne tried to ignore the worry settling in her gut as the gunshots continued. If Arthur was shot she didn't know what she'd do. Would she cry at the unimaginable pain that would settle in her chest at the loss of someone so important to her?

The thought startled her, the realization that Arthur indeed meant something to her making her frown in anger at herself. He'd left her alone in an airport, left her to try and adjust to the blandness she saw in life now that she knew the possibilities of dreamscapes. He'd left and the only way she'd been able to get him to come back was when she was in danger.

But was it really Arthur? Or was he another dreamscape trick?

With that thought, Ariadne moved over to where Scarface lay on the ground. Blood had begun to pool around his head, causing Ariadne to wince in disgust. With the tips of her fingers, she moved his jacket aside and grabbed the gun in the waistband of his slacks. It was cold and hard in her hand.

She stood just as she heard footsteps approach her. Without looking, she knew who it was by the relaxed gait, by the way her shoulders uncoiled from his near presence.

"Ariadne." Arthur's voice was soft, coaxing, like in her dream, but it was coaxing her to put down the gun. She refused to fall twice for his tricks.

"Don't move," Ariadne warned him, turning and aiming the gun at him without hesitation. After seeing him in the dreamscape, she wasn't sure when he was real or not anymore.

Arthur stilled, his gun nowhere in sight as he raised his hands slowly, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. Ariadne stared at him in distrust before her eyes dropped to his tie, her lips pressing together as she pieced everything together.

Without taking her eyes off of him, she stuck her hand in her jacket pocket, relieved to be wearing her jacket again and to find her totem. She pulled it out and set it on the table, tapping it lightly. It fell with a clang, rolling towards the edge where she caught it and shoved it back into her pocket.

"You're real," she muttered to herself as the gun dropped from her hands. It was a stupid move considering the gun could have fired accidentally and shot one of them, but she didn't care. Her mind was trying to process everything that was going on.

Arthur caught her before she could stumble and fall backwards over Scarface's body. His hands pulled her away from the body and before she knew it, she was encased in warmth and the smell that was purely Arthur: leather and peppermint. She faintly wondered if he had a thing for gum.

And then the warmth was gone but the smell remained. It engulfed her and calmed her like a sedative.

"We'll talk when we get somewhere safe," he told her as he headed for the door, expecting her to follow. After everything that had happened in the course of the past couple of days (her guess at how long she'd been kidnapped since she had a bad enough time guessing at the date as it was) Ariadne was more than relieved to let someone else take care of her and protect her.

They headed down the hallway briskly and took the stairs. Arthur hailed a cab and Ariadne found it more difficult than she originally thought it would be to keep her eyes from roaming his face in newly found, yet familiar interest.

It was silent in the cab and Ariadne forced herself stare out the window and guess at where they were going. It felt like hours as the world sped by in a blur of lights and brick buildings.

With drooping eyes, Ariadne tried to stay awake. Until now she'd been running on pure adrenaline and hadn't realized how much she yearned for a warm bed and the feelings of comfort.

There was a sharp intake as her head landed on something firm yet soft. She felt safe, safer than she'd ever felt before in her life. Stubbornly, she refused to admit that it had anything to do with the man next to her who had turned into a human pillow. The thought made her smile, earning a curious look from Arthur.

/|\

When Ariadne woke she found herself staring at the peeling plaster on the ceiling. Her mind tried to process where she was, but all she could come up with was the taxi she'd been in before she drifted off.

Reaching for the totem in her pocket, she dropped it onto the side table and taped it, relieved to hear it clunk on its side and roll onto the floor.

"Don't worry, it's not a dream."

Ariadne's heart jumped as she sat up, her eyes immediately finding Arthur at his perch on the windowsill. She sorely wanted to tell him that she could barely tell what's a dream or not anymore, especially after the last few days.

"I was just making sure. You're wearing a tie but still," Ariadne told him without thinking, biting her lip when she realized she'd said too much, that she'd implied she knew Arthur like the back of hand. In some ways she did.

The curious tilt of Arthur's head made her turn her back towards him and sit on the edge of the bed, unable to meet his eyes.

"What did they do?" he questioned her softly, a hard edge in his voice, his approaching footsteps making Ariadne's skin break out in goosebumps. She hesitated before looking up at him, surprised to find him crouched down in front of her, his hands coming to rest on her knees gently.

"They tortured me and when that didn't work they tried to use you against me," Ariadne said to him with a frown, her eyes unable to look away from his. "He did was Eames does and I honestly thought it was you—"Ariadne's voice cracked and she realized that tears were running down her face. "I thought you were there to save me and then I found out it wasn't real."

Arthur's arms wound around her, hard muscle pressing into her cheek as she rested against his chest, her hands clutching at the back of his dress shirt tightly. She felt him rocking her lightly, his cheek pressed against the top of her head. Never would she have pegged Arthur as a hugging type of person, but here they were, arms around each other and she was already feeling better.

"I won't ever let anything like that happen to you again," Arthur murmured above her, his breath stirring her hair lightly on the top of her head and making her shiver, not in coldness but something else, something indescribable.

Ariadne pulled away from him, ignoring the sudden feeling of longing of having his arms back around her. She stood up and headed for the window, staring out at it, out at the real world. Who were they kidding? Sooner or later they'd go their separate ways again, her reluctantly, him willingly.

"Ariadne?" Arthur's forehead was creased in worry, his eyes trained on her as he stood but didn't come closer, opting to keep a distance from him. What was he afraid of? Her pulling out a gun and aiming it at him again? She wasn't doubting reality this time.

"You can't promise that," Ariadne whispered, her voice rising as anger flooded her. It shocked her that she could get angry so easily but, hell, this past week had been a roller coaster of fear and her being kidnapped and being fucking tortured and tricked and given false hope. She couldn't stop the accusation in her voice. "You left last time, what's stopping you from leaving in a couple of days?"

Arthur didn't say anything and Ariadne wondered if he'd left the room. Turning, she forced herself to hold her ground as Arthur looked down at her, his own eyes holding an anger that mirrored her own.

"Do you know how long it took me to find you?" he demanded furiously, a crack in his calm façade that Ariadne had never seen before. He didn't wait for her to answer. "Six months, two weeks, and five days. I tried to find you Ariadne, I tried so fucking hard, but you'd just dropped off the face of the planet. You're just as much to blame for this as I am."

Ariadne didn't know which was more surprising: him admitting his own fault or admitting that he'd been trying to find her. A tingle erupted in her stomach.

"I was so glad when you called me but then you were screaming and I couldn't do anything about it," he admitted without hesitation, his jaw clenching before he continued, "It tore me apart inside and I wasn't sure what I'd do if I didn't find you in time."

He fell silent, his brown eyes dark enough to be called black, his chest heaving.

Without thinking, Ariadne grabbed his tie and pulled him forward, pressing her lips against his softly. Her hands clutched at his tie like a lifeline, afraid that if she let go, he'd run.

Pulling back, Ariadne opened her eyes and stared at Arthur, her eyes wide. What she'd just done began to register. She dropped his tie, choosing to ignore that it was wrinkled with obvious finger impressions.

Ariadne was mentally going through how many steps it would take to get to the door of the room when warm, smooth lips pressed against her own. Without thinking (something she seemed to do whenever Arthur was near which unsettled her) she kissed him back with an intensity that made her toes curl.

He pinned her against the wall with his hips as their kiss became hungrier, rougher, something they'd been yearning to do since they'd first met. His teeth caught her bottom lip and tugged it into his mouth, sucking on it wetly. Pulling away, he kissed down her jaw and nipped at the patch of sweet smelling skin under her ear.

"I've wanted to do that forever," Arthur murmured into her ear as his hands ran down her back, his blunt nails biting into her flesh. He groaned, his fingers finding the hem of her shirt and yanking it over her head, beating her to it. It was thrown somewhere unknown behind him, his own shirt following.

She thought for sure he'd pause to fold it and set it down carefully. The thought made her giggle.

Arthur's lips curved into a smile against her neck as he kissed his way to her collarbone. "What's so funny?"

"I just…thought for sure that you'd fold your shirt." Ariadne blushed at being so open with him.

He smirked and pulled away, ignoring her frown, and going over to pick up his shirt. Ariadne watched him with narrowed eyes, pushing away from the wall when he purposely folded it slowly, shaking it out to start over.

"You…" Ariadne couldn't finish her sentence. She hadn't pegged him for being a teaser either but she was starting to realize that there were things about him that she didn't know, even simple things such as his favorite color. She wanted to know everything about him and the intensity of the feeling made her stomach flutter in excitement.

Going over to his turned back as he folded his shirt for the last time and set it down, finally, Ariadne kissed him on the shoulder blade before nipping hard, running her hand over his shoulder as she moved to stand in front of him.

They stared at each other for a long time, neither saying a word as what they were about to do sunk in. They were about to step into uncharted territory and it was both terrifying and exhilarating.

His hands grabbed her hips and backed her up until she was sitting on the bed. With skilled fingers, Arthur unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down her legs, inhaling sharply when he eyes traveled down the length of them.

Leaning forward, Ariadne kissed him with everything she had, grabbing onto the back of his head and caressing the back of his neck with the lips of her fingertips. He shivered and they were moving, skin against skin, and before long they were under the covers.

Her breath beat against his throat in short bursts as he slid her panties down her legs. He disappeared under the covers and she cried out as his fingers spread her thighs and delved into her with an intent and preciseness that was all Arthur.

It wasn't long before her skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat as he reappeared and settled against her, burying himself to the hilt inside of her. Her fingers danced across his chest before disappearing over his shoulders, her nails digging into his shoulder blades as her legs wrapped around his hips tightly in an effort to pull him deeper, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

They stared at each other before her eyes fluttered closed in ecstasy, his fingers gripping her hips roughly as his hips snapped against hers with increasing force and speed. Keening, Ariadne buried her face in his neck, her mouth kissing his pulse point and tasting the saltiness of his skin.

They tipped over the edge in harmony, Ariadne's forehead pressed against his shoulder as she cried out loudly, her right hand buried in the hair at the nape of his neck. Arthur groaned huskily, his lips finding hers as they slowly came down from their high, their fingers intertwined above Ariadne's head.

Arthur stared at her, his eyes roaming her face as though he were trying to memorize it to memory. His hair was messed up and Ariadne found it as sexy was when it was slicked back. She felt as though they were sharing a special moment, him out of his normal element of perfection and her out of her normal quietness.

Arthur's eyes landed on her lips and he leaned down to lightly kiss her, drawing back before coming back for another quick peck as though he couldn't get enough. Ariadne was tempted to tell him that she would never get enough of him but she swallowed the words, deciding to save them for another time. Maybe tomorrow morning.

Arthur's arms started to shake with weariness and he settled down next to her, his hands pulling her close. Ariadne tangled her legs with his, hearing him groan as his hand grabbed her leg and hoisted it onto his hip, pressing against her.

"We're never going to sleep if you do that," Arthur warned, his heated eyes crinkling as he smiled down at her. Ariadne rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder, satisfied when he landed on his back. She seated herself snugly on his stomach, bracing herself with her hands on his chest, her lips tilting into a wicked smirk.

"I don't mind if you don't."

He shook his head quickly, his hands sliding up her stomach to palm her breasts, his fingers drawing circles around her nipples tauntingly, relishing in her moan as her head fell back. Arthur leaned up to nip at the underside of her jaw, his teeth making her whimper for more.

Ariadne silently wondered how they'd gone from being in different countries to being in the same bed together but as Arthur's hands slid back down her body and found the sensitive skin between her thighs she decided that she didn't care.

They were happy and that was all that mattered. She'd be damned before she let him walk away again.

/|\

This took over a week to write. It drove me insane. Also I just want to thank all my readers for holding in there and dealing with my random updates with different stories and pairings. If you like my randomness, feel free to go over my livejournal to see more randomness. There is a nice smutfest going on for Ariadne and Arthur that I am taking part in.


	2. Chapter 2

So here is oneshot number two. I will probably post another on Christmas Eve/Christmas Day/Day after Christmas. Yeah, one of those days

Prompt: Five times Arthur made her laugh and one time he made her cry.

Warning: oneshots may be extremely short or extremely long. Language and sexual content may and probably will be in some of them, but not all.

Disclaimer is on my page.

/|\

It was dark by the time Ariadne finished drawing the layout of a small town for their next heist. She didn't mind staying late, not when Arthur was across the room from her and in her line of sight. If she could have it her way, she'd sit there all night and just stare.

As though sensing her eyes on him, Arthur looked up and met her eyes. His lips lifted on one corner in a half smile and his eyes lost the concentrated, business only edge.

Ariadne struggled to breathe at the sight. Her surroundings disappeared and she wondered if this was how it was supposed to be when you were in love with someone.

Arthur didn't break eye contact and placed his pen on the desk, moving to get up, intent in his eyes. There was a clattering and Arthur looked down in annoyance as the pen rolled further under the desk. His head and shoulders disappeared under the desk in pursuit and Ariadne admired the way his crisp, wrinkle free dark blue shirt pulled taunt against his back.

There was a thump and swearing as Arthur's head reappeared, his fingers finding the back of his hand and rubbing tenderly.

It didn't take long for Ariadne to process that Arthur had just banged his head on the underside of the desk. Laughter bubbled up her throat and she couldn't hold it in. She threw a hand over her mouth to keep the giggles in and with wide eyes met Arthur's gaze.

He smiled and dropped his hand, tossing the pen onto the table, making sure it didn't roll this time.

Ariadne's hand fell to her lap as she laughed, unable to hold it in. Faint chuckles could be heard from across the room.

She would never forget this moment.

/|\

Ariadne spent the afternoon going over her plans with Arthur on how the hotel would look and the three blocks surrounding the hotel. With a pen in one hand, the other braced against the table, Ariadne made sweeping arches along the exterior of one of the buildings, an exact mirror of the real life New York City business building.

The scent that was pure Arthur overwhelmed her and it took everything in her to not grab him by the tie and make good use of the table. He smelled of leather and mint and she wondered how he could smell of mint when she never saw him chew gum.

"The lamp posts are going to need to be slightly taller," Arthur told her as he placed a finger on the drawing, right on the lamppost.

Ariadne moved her hand towards the lamppost to make a note, her fingers warming when their hands brushed.

Looking up, Ariadne froze, her eyes trained on his face as his fingers lowered from rubbing his cheek in a habit she'd seen him do many times.

Being an artist, Ariadne knew how messy drawing could be. So when she saw the tiny black splotch on Arthur's cheek, she couldn't help the snort that escaped her lips.

Arthur glanced up from the drawing with curiosity, his eyebrows rising slightly.

"What?" he asked in confusion as Ariadne's cheeks warmed while she chewed her lip, her smile growing large and larger. Before she could stop herself, she was laughing lightly, her eyes crinkling in the corners in amusement.

"Uhh, you have pen on your cheek," Ariadne informed him in an amused voice, pointing at his left cheek. She watched Arthur's eyebrows crease as he reached up and rubbed at his cheek. Shaking her head, Ariadne licked her thumb and reached up, rubbing away the pen mark in smooth back and forth strokes.

Once it was gone, she pulled back immediately, embarrassed by the fact that she'd just smeared her saliva on Arthur's cheek without his permission.

"Thanks…" Arthur looked hesitant and Ariadne opened her mouth to apologize for not grabbing a wet paper towel instead. "Do you want to go out and catch a movie later?"

With wide eyes, Ariadne fought the urge to check her totem. She nodded and said yes quietly, not trusting her voice to work if she tried to speak any louder. It would crack in her attempt to remain calm and collected when on the inside she was jumping around like the cliché fifteen year old girl she had never been.

He gave her a small smile and a promise to pick her up at seven before he turned back to the drawing. Later, when she was safely in her apartment and her totem was on the side table next to her front door, she tapped it lightly and it fell with a resound clink, rolling to the edge of the table where she caught it.

The moment of the pen on his face, him asking her out, the smile he gave her, replayed in her mind and slowly, a smile crept onto her face.

/|\

Arthur keeps his promise.

There is a sharp knock that echoes throughout the house and Ariadne forces herself not to full out sprint to the door. Instead she opts to put her jacket on at a normal speed and slips on some flats she miraculously found in the back of her closet.

When she opens the door, he's in a three piece suit and impeccable as always. The suit is midnight black, like his hair, and all Ariadne wants to do it watch him take it off slowly with his smothering gaze focused on her.

She smiles at him and closes the door behind her with a soft click, her hands buried in her pockets. The temptation to reach out and take is hand is strong and she almost gives in but she rubs her totem in her pocket between her fingers instead.

When Ariadne asks Arthur what movie they're seeing, he gives her a secret smile and keeps his mouth shut. There's an excited tingle down her spine and he mistakes it for a shiver, walking closer to her to block out the wind from one side as he easily keeps stride with her.

She can't help but tease him as she tries to guess what movie they'll see. He laughs, a sound that is easily her new favorite music, and it triggers her own. Their arms brush and tentatively, Ariadne loops her arm through his when she shivers again, this time from coldness.

Instead of going into a modern movie theater, Arthur takes them to an older style one with red velvet seats worn from years of being sat on and a concessions stand that only has popcorn and three choices of soda.

When they're settled in their seats, they chat about different things. Surprisingly, they have a lot in common and Ariadne feels her chest bloom with heat as she giggles at something Arthur said. She takes in the way his dimples appear when he smiles, an expression so different from the serious demeanor he always has during jobs.

The lights flicker several times and they settle down as the lights dim and the screen lights up. Throughout the whole movie Ariadne has a smile on her face. The movie makes her laugh, chest achingly hard, and she wonders if Arthur knew this would happen because he always seems to know when the funny parts are coming up and turns to look at her out of the corner of his eye as she clutches her ribs and laughs.

/|\

He asks her out again the following week. Several weeks after, they're in his apartment watching a movie on TV as they talk about modern issues. Somehow Ariadne's feet end up on his lap and he plays with her toes absentmindedly, her foot jerking when his thumb runs up her instep lightly.

Arthur gives her a questioning look with raised eyebrows, his eyes smiling with mischief. Without having to ask, he runs his fingers along the bottom of her foot, smirking when she squeals and tries to wrestle her foot out of his grip.

Instead, he grabs her ankle and pulls her body closer, his hands reaching out to find her sides. She squirms in his grip as he tickles her relentlessly and soon they're both laughing like hyenas as they try to tickle each other.

Ariadne straddles his stomach as her fingers dance across his rib cage, trying to find a ticklish spot. She fails to realize how provocative her position is until he leans up and kisses her.

It doesn't take long for them to get off the couch and stumble across the room, down the hallway, and into his bedroom. His sheets are cool against Ariadne's bare back as she takes and he gives and vice versa. For the first time since she had met Cobbs, she knows for sure this is reality.

/|\

It doesn't take long for Eames to notice the longing glances they share across the room as they work. He uses this to his advantage to make snarky comment after snarky comment whenever he gets the chance.

Ariadne goes into the dreamscape with him and Cobbs to fix last minute details for the heist and when she wakes up, she bursts out laughing when she looks at Eames.

Scrawled on his forehead in pen is "I don't know how to shut the fuck up" in Arthur's recognizable handwriting. Eames' forehead crinkles in confusion and that sets off another round of giggles from her as she rolls off the lawn chair and heads towards Arthur's office, her hands splayed across her ribs in joyful pain.

Cobbs doesn't bother to tell Eames why she was laughing and leaves with a smile on his face. Eames leaves a couple of minutes later without having a clue as to the ink scrawled across his forehead.

The next day he comes back with a sharpie in his hand and revenge evident on his face. Arthur is nowhere in sight and Eames stalks the warehouse looking for him before Ariadne informs him Arthur is out doing something.

/|\

Arthur finally asks her to move in with him a year later. They keep base in Paris, near the warehouse that has become a second home, and her scarves look surprisingly good next to his shirts in the closet.

They're walking down the street when they arrive at the movie theater they had their first date on. Ariadne looks up at Arthur with a questioning look but he has that closed lipped smile on his face again, a secret in his eyes.

Hand in hand, they walk into the theater and she's surprised to find it empty of people. The lights flicker several times and they find seats in the front and settle into them.

As the lights dim, the screen goes bright and suddenly Arthur's face is on the screen. He looks restless and Ariadne turns to look at the love of her life sitting next to her. His brown eyes have a nervous glint and are on her as he nods his head towards the screen.

Turning, Ariadne watches as the Arthur on the screen starts to talk to her. He's sitting in the movie theater, in the front row, and he starts listing off everything he loves about her: her brown wavy hair, her scarves that he wants to see hanging in their closet for the rest of his life, her rebellious attitude, the stories about her childhood that she tells him about fondly even though she broke her arm or fell off her bike, the way her eyes crinkle at the corners when she smiles, the way her laugh fills the room even when she's laughing quietly, and the way he wants to spend the rest of his life with her even when she does something to piss her off.

At the last part, Ariadne turns towards Arthur with parted lips, her eyes welling up as she takes in the sight of him down on one knee in front of her, a velvet box open in his hand with a shining ring inside. In unison, him and the Arthur on the screen ask her to marry him. With shaky hands and tears spilling down her cheeks, Ariadne tells him to get up so he doesn't get his expensive trousers dirty.

He merely shrugs and remains on one knee. At that moment Ariadne realizes he'd do anything for her, even kneel on the sticky floor of a movie theater in his expensive, tailored suit, because he loves her.

Ariadne's not sure why she's crying as she gets down on her knees in front of him and kisses him with everything she has. That's all the answer he needs as he slips the ring on her finger and seals their fate.

/|\

Merry Christmas and thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Here is my Christmas present to everyone. In exactly thirty minutes it will be Christmas, yay! I'm as excited as a five year old. In advanced, I apologize for any typos. I proofread it but every time I go back and read it, I find more of them so I'm going to have to read it really carefully when I get around to it.

Written for the prompt: Arthur seduces Ariadne with his darker side.

Warning: oneshots may be extremely short or extremely long. Some will be rated Mature for a reason, others not so much.

Disclaimer is on my page.

/|\

That skirt was way too short. So short that Arthur's fingers itched to hike it up and find the lacy panties underneath, if she was wearing any.

Ariadne's eyes flickered up to him in alarm as he tried to hide his coughs, the mental image making him harden so fast that he stood from his seat with a jerk and left the room before Ariadne could ask him if he was okay or notice his other, more serious problem.

Of course he was okay. It's not like he wanted to bend her over the desk and fuck her continuously until his legs gave out from exhaustion or anything.

Another breath lodged itself in his throat, making him choke. This was really getting out of hand. He needed to focus on things other than the curved arch of her neck and the smooth skin of her legs, legs that he desperately wanted to wrap around his waist as his cock disappeared into her over and over again.

Shaking his head, Arthur rudely told himself to shut the fuck up and headed for the bathroom, deciding that some cold water to the face and some breathing techniques would help calm him down.

He just hoped it would help him before he lost his sanity.

Glancing down at the bulge in his pants, Arthur swore under his breath and decided that breathing techniques weren't going to do a damn thing.

The sounds of a zipper being pulled down filled the small space of the bathroom. With clenched teeth and closed eyes, Arthur wrapped his hand around his cock and broke his number one rule: don't think about Ariadne.

/|\

Ariadne wished she could read minds or, more specifically, Arthur's.

Lately he'd been acting weird, something that was so unlike Arthur that it had caught her attention and worry immediately. He was restless, standing up abruptly and leaving the room for long periods at a time before coming back and acting as though everything was fine.

Today was no different. In fact, he was more fidgety than she'd ever seen him. She wanted to blame it all on stress but knew it had to be something else. Arthur didn't get pressured by stress, not when they were three levels into a dream and he had to figure out how to make them wake up when there was no gravity.

She admired him for that. Actually, she admired him for a lot of things.

But right when she was going to ask him if everything was alright, he'd run out of the room, _again_, causing her eyebrows to crease in worry.

Standing, Ariadne stretched slowly, trying to tell herself that her muscles were sore rather than admit that she was stalling, afraid at how Arthur would react if she asked him something personal.

But they were friends. The word made Ariadne's heart clench in disappointment. She desperately wanted to be more than just friends. Hell, she'd take friends with benefits if it brought them closer together.

The thought made Ariadne blush and she glanced over her shoulder at the door, hoping no one would sense where her mind was going. It was too early in the morning. The dirty, arousing thoughts only came later in the day when she was alone and bothered by how restless Arthur's presence made her.

The way Arthur moved, his slicked back hair and crisp, sharp suits gave him an air of sophistication, but Ariadne could sense the underlying dangerous, dark attitude that showed itself more often when he was holding a gun and fighting bad guys than anywhere else. The dedication and control he had for his job made Ariadne yearn to feel the same thing and dammit, she wanted to be controlled by those long, lean fingers of his.

The idea made Ariadne's toes curl as her stomach fluttered.

She wanted to feel his body pinning hers to the wall by their hips, his hands pulling at her hair, his mouth biting and licking and mapping every inch of her body. Her collarbone, her stomach, between her legs.

Rolling her eyes at how cliché the thought was (really, _between her legs_, where else would he go), Ariadne forced herself to calm down and left the room. Focusing her thoughts on her worry for Arthur as a friend (her heartstrings constricted tightly, stop that), Ariadne tried to guess at where he was.

It didn't take long for Ariadne to arrive at the bathroom. She shifted from foot to foot, wondering if this was a good idea. What if he got angry at her for being too nosy?

Pushing the thought into the back of her mind, Ariadne knocked softly on the door, short little taps that she half hoped he would hear and half hoped he wouldn't hear. Her heart beat painfully in her throat. Why was she so nervous?

There was shuffling around on the other side of the door. Ariadne wasn't sure how long it was before the door opened a crack and she found herself unable to look up from the floor.

The door opened further and just as Ariadne was about to look up and confront Arthur, his hand was around her upper arm and yanking her into the bathroom. A startled sound came out of her mouth. Her hands clutched at the dress shirt over his biceps as her back hit the wall, the tiles digging into her shoulder blades and snagging on her shirt.

"Arthur—"

"Shh," he demanded in a rough voice, cutting her off with a finger to her lips. "You shouldn't be here."

"Why?" Ariadne managed to mumble around his finger, her eyes widening as his brown eyes darkened dangerously. She felt his finger dip between her parted lips slightly, her moist breath washing over his skin and down his wrist.

His head tilted down as his eyes clenched shut, his eyebrows creased so much that they seemed to be connected before his face smoothed out, his lips turning down in a frown.

"Arthur?" Ariadne whispered, lifting a hand to swat his finger out of the way. "_Arthur!_"

Arthur's hands slid down her body eagerly, grabbing her knees and hoisting her up, his hips pinning her to the wall. Without blinking, he stared at her as he rocked against her with a sharp thrust, his hands sliding up in a heated trail to shove her skirt up around her hips.

"This is why," he ground out in a voice that sounded tortured. "Around you I…" his jaw clenched tightly, his face darkening in conflict.

With quickly glazing eyes, Ariadne tried to focus and keep her hands from clutching him closer. It didn't work for long as her hands buried themselves in his hair. She felt his fingers wrap around her left wrist, pinning it firmly to the wall as his hips snapped against hers, the feeling vibrating throughout her and a fire settling in her lower stomach. His lips burned a trail across her jaw, his teeth nipping at the skin under her ear as he panted in it, his cheek brushing hers with each thrust.

"Please," Ariadne murmured as her head fell back against the wall. She tried to make sense of what she'd said, of whether she was asking him to stop or keep going, but her muddled mind was too far gone.

Arthur's hands moved across her body, one sliding up her shirt to shove her bra up and circle her nipple with his finger and the other finding the moist skin between her legs, stroking circles around her clit with increasing pressure.

The lights of the bathroom blinded Ariadne's wide eyes for a moment as a delicious feeling surged through her, from between her legs to her throat and forcing a cry out of her. She never wanted this to end, ever, when her body felt so warm as though her bones had melted.

The floor touched her feet as she was lowered, surprise making her knees buckle as she slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor.

Arthur loomed over her, his face twisted in self-restraint as his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides.

With parted lips, Ariadne tried to speak, to tell Arthur that she'd been waiting for this since the first time she'd met him, but he opened the door and fled before she could utter her heart's deepest, darkest secret.

The back of her head hit the wall as she stared at the ceiling, her chest heaving as she tried to calm herself. Her eyes fluttered closed and she forced the tears back, clenching her teeth when a single tear slipped down her cheek, the disappointment filling the void that had been in her for so long, a gaping hole in her chest that was allowing her heart to wear away from exposure, a void created by loneliness.

The opportunity to fill the hole by telling Arthur, the one person that might be able to save her, how she really felt had been there and she'd let it slip through her fingers like water.

/|\

Arthur didn't show up for a full two days.

When he finally did come back, Ariadne wanted to pretend it was because he missed her, but she knew he was only back for the job they were currently planning. It had to be perfect in Arthur's eyes and his loss of self-control (and untimely gain of restraint) couldn't hold him back from making sure every detail was spot on.

The office door was locked and Ariadne didn't bother knocking. He wouldn't answer.

"Ready to do a test run?" Cobbs asked her, oblivious to her eyes glancing at the office door to her left every two minutes. She'd tried to ignore the tension she felt for what had happened, but it was impossible.

"Yeah," Ariadne responded without thinking, her mind focused on other things. She heard Eames plop down in the chair next to hers, her trusty lawn chair, and she cleared her mind. It took a moment focus her mind and the residing heat in her lower stomach didn't help. With a quiet sigh, Ariadne laid back and inserted the wire, her mind peacefully calm.

Cobbs stared her in the eye as he pressed the button, his body relaxing almost immediately. He was always the first to go and, although he truly wanted to get away from this type of life, Ariadne always saw the small spark of eagerness in his eyes.

Eames sighed next to her, his eyes already closed as he drifted off into the dream. Feeling the edges of her mind become hazy, Ariadne let her body go limp and felt her eyes flutter closed.

When she opened them, the world around her was transformed around her. Cobbs strolled up to her from a café, his hands in his pockets casually. Ariadne didn't need his word before she started shaping their surroundings, the street cafés molding into tall skyscrapers with shimmering, glass sides.

"Well done, now let's see the inside," Cobbs muttered in appreciation as he headed for the front door of one of the buildings. He didn't glance back to see if Ariadne was following.

"I've designed it so that when you reach the top floor, it leads into the lobby and starts all over again," Ariadne informed him as she fell into step beside him. She'd become accustomed to his fast gait and didn't struggle to keep up. "The floors go in a spiral leading up so he'll be going in a vertical circle."

Cobbs jerked his head in a nod. "Nice job," he commented. They entered the elevator and pressed the top floor button. When they arrived, they exited and found themselves in the lobby again, projections walking back and forth in front of them as they headed for their destinations.

"I'm going to go find Eames and see how he's doing," Cobbs announced after several seconds of just standing there and watching the projections. Without waiting for Ariadne's response, he stalked off, disappearing into the crowd of projections.

Ariadne watched him go before stepping back into the elevator. She pressed a random button and watched the doors close, some of the projections staring at her as they passed. It freaked her out sometimes how the projections blatantly stared at her as though they knew something she didn't about herself.

When the elevator dinged, the doors slid open to reveal an empty hallway with smooth, white walls. Pictures formed on the walls as Ariadne made her way down the hallway, doors forming and glass walled offices rising from the ground before her eyes.

Even as all of this took place, the hallway remained empty. Ariadne knew that for it to seem real, there would need to be people, but she wanted just a little more time to play with the surroundings before she made the people.

Ariadne smiled at the thought. If it had been a year ago, she would have thought this whole idea crazy, created by some whack job looking to play mind games with her. But now that she'd experienced it, the need for it settled in her like a taste in the back of her mouth. It was always there until you got rid of it, but in this case, the idea of inception would never go away and Ariadne liked it that way.

A sudden tingle in her lower stomach made Ariadne falter in her steps. With wide eyes, she went into one of the offices and closed the door, clicking the lock before it had fully formed.

Ariadne tried to make sense of what was happening even as her panties became wetter and her breathing picked up. She collapsed on the desk chair and clutched at the armrests, gasping as what felt like fingers ghosted up her thighs. She glanced down and found nothing, her shorts untouched and her legs slightly spread as her body thrummed with invisible pleasure.

It took her a moment to comprehend that her fingers were unbuttoning her shorts as she lifted her hips and shoved the shorts down her legs, her head falling back as the invisible fingers found their way to the soaked cloth between her thighs.

"What is happening?" Ariadne whispered as her fingers shakily removed her panties and found the moist skin strumming with heat. With trembling fingers, Ariadne circled her clit as her mind shut down, the ghost fingers working alongside hers in an uncontrolled frenzy.

A tremor racked her body as her legs parted further, her eyes fluttering shut, her fingers moving to stroke lower, pressing harder until she was teetering on the edge. Her heart thudded in her ears and throat, her mouth dry.

Warm breath washed over Ariadne's thighs and they jerked. Her eyes snapped open to stare down at the empty space between her legs. Teeth were nipping at her inner thigh, a tongue lapping at her pussy the next moment.

Fear and the need for more raged war inside of her. Her fingers continued to work on her sensitive flesh, moving up to cup her breasts as the lips (lips she couldn't see but could feel, something she couldn't make sense of) worked on her lower body.

Ariadne's eyes closed again, her back arching in ecstasy. She couldn't stop the image of Arthur kneeling in front of her with his head between her thighs from taking over her mind. She could almost feel his fingers digging into her knees, her thighs trembling to stay parted for him.

All the air in Ariadne's lungs rushed out of her mouth as her lips parted in a cry, her fingers clenching into fists next to her thighs as wave after wave of pleasurable heat washed through her, starting from between her legs and moving outward.

The room was silent as Ariadne panted loudly. She could no longer feel the fingers or lips, but the memory of them burned into her mind. How was it even possible? Unless…

Ariadne's eyes narrowed as everything started to click into place. The only one that had been awake in the warehouse was—

The world started to tilt as Ariadne put the final piece of the puzzle into place.

/|\

Cobb's eyes opened a split second after hers did. It took every ounce of restraint to not blush. She had been the dreamer, not him, so there was no way he could have known what happened.

Ariadne sprung out of her seat and headed for the bathroom. She could hear Eames and Cobbs talking about their test run and how right before the kick their surroundings had started to shake slightly before settling back into place as she disappeared around the corner and closed the door, her body feeling cold, so extremely cold.

The desire for Arthur still itched within her and she clenched her teeth in frustration and anger. He had no right to live out his desires when she couldn't.

A plan was forming in her head. She wanted to laugh at the irony. She was the Architect. Cobbs was the one who came up with the plans.

Composed and calm, Ariadne left the bathroom and went to grab her stuff.

"Leaving, deary?" Eames asked her with interest, his eyebrows rising. "Need someone to walk you home?"

Ariadne smiled at him and shook her head. "I know what game you're playing. If you need some company, try Arthur."

Eames smirked, his head jerking towards the door. "He left a couple of minutes ago. The bloke never wants to hang around for the after party. So dull, like a stick in the mud."

Ariadne shrugged while saying, "You're out of luck then." She didn't wait for him to respond, instead turning to grab her backpack and head for the door. Arthur would come back to the warehouse when they were all gone and when he did, she'd ambush him.

/|\

The warehouse was pitch dark when Ariadne got there. If it weren't for the feeling of home that she felt when she'd entered through the side door, she might have turned around and hightailed it out of there, but instead, she ventured further into the darkness.

But that was her job, to go into the darkness and make it into something: a town square, airport, hotel, business building.

Ariadne made her way around the pillars, her heels clicking against the floor loudly. For a moment Ariadne regretted wearing them. It's not like she never wore heels but they tended to be more of a pain than anything else. But, they made her feel sexier, something she felt rarely.

So lost in her thoughts, Ariadne later would wonder how she'd missed the soft footsteps stalking towards her from her left.

Calloused fingers circled Ariadne's upper arms, twisting her around and pressing her front into one of the pillars. The cry dissolved in her throat as her breath rushed from her lungs in surprise.

"What—" The same long, rough skinned fingers buried themselves in her hair and pulled her head back, making her neck arch backwards in an almost painful angle.

"What are you doing here?" Arthur growled in her ear, his hot breath curling down her neck and across the side of her face. Her eyes dilated, her throat bobbed as she swallowed heavily and Arthur's fingers tightened in her hair.

"_Arthur_," Ariadne whispered heavily, her eyes fluttering as she tried to remain alert, focused on what was happening. Her hair fell down her back as he released his grip, his blunt nails scratching across her scalp and down the back of her neck softly in warning. His fingers latched onto the base of her neck, his nails digging into her skin lightly.

"Don't," he warned and cursed loudly. "You shouldn't be here. Not alone with me. Get out of here."

The welcomed, tight grip on the back of her neck disappeared and the burning hot sensation left her, her skin erupting in goosebumps as the cold invaded her. Disappointment filled her. She wanted his body wrapped around hers, warding off the iciness of the air, the bite of the world, of reality.

Ariadne spun around, her fingers reaching for him only to find his back to her as he quickly headed around the corner. With a shake of her head, Ariadne set off after him, refusing to let him run again. She didn't care how much of a danger he might be for her safety. Without him she was worse off, a train waiting to run off the icy tracks.

The bathroom door was closed and Ariadne found it ironic that he had run there, to the place where they had first lost control, to the place he was now trying to gain control.

The door opened easily and she wondered if he'd merely forgotten to lock it or if he'd left it unlocked for a reason, to give her a chance to come after him and confront him.

"Ariadne, go—"

"_No_," Ariadne countered, cutting Arthur off before he could convince himself that he was bad for her, harmful to her, and that she was better off without him. She slammed the door shut, the sound reverberating through her body. "I want this just as much as you do, but I'm not afraid."

Arthur glared at her from under his eyelashes, his knuckles white against the sink's edge. With a ragged exhale, he straightened and stalked towards her, never breaking eye contact. Looming over her, his fingers brushed against her throat, up her jaw, and buried themselves in the hair at the nape of her neck.

"I'm not afraid," he ground out before he kissed her, pissed off and full of teeth. Ariadne clutched at his tie and pressed herself against him hard. The next moment his hands were cupping her ass and grinding her against him furiously. She moaned as they broke away and his hands worked at her t-shirt, yanking it over her head before she could process where his hands were. His lips found her earlobe, sucking at it before moving down the underside of her jaw and latching onto her neck. His teeth nipped at her pulse point, causing her head to fall back against the wall as she moaned through parted teeth.

An irritated look appeared on Arthur's face as his hands moved up her ribs and stopped at her bra, his fingers hurriedly unclasping it and chucking it aside, his warm hands palming her breasts as his lips found hers again. He sucked her tongue into his mouth, tangling his with hers before breaking away, relishing in her panting breaths against his lips.

"I'm going to fuck you Ariadne," he murmured hotly against her lips, his darkened eyes holding hers with a challenge. She stared back and without hesitation caught his upper lip between hers, her eyes closing as her mouth showed him how ready she was for it.

With anxious hands, Ariadne undid his tie and ripped it from around his neck, dropping it to the floor. She worked on his shirt next, tearing at it when her hands fumbled too much. Buttons flew everywhere and Arthur smirked against her lips, his hands yanking at the zipper on her shorts and shoving hindering material down her legs.

"I liked that shirt," Arthur informed her in a low voice as he hoisted her onto the sink's edge, his fingers hooking in the waistband of her panties and pulling them down her legs until he was kneeling in front of her.

Ariadne was about to retort when she felt his tongue lap at the bud of her sex. Her shoulders fell back against the mirror, her fingers delving into his hair and breaking it out of its normal style of slicked back perfection.

Arthur pulled away, his lips glistening as he stared at her from under his eyelashes. She was beginning to love that look because of the way it made her body melt.

"I want to you watch me as I tongue fuck you," he demanded darkly, his tongue coming out to lick his lips before he leaned back down. He licked at her with rough strokes as his fingers held her thighs wide apart.

Ariadne's eyes fluttered as her thighs trembled, the urge to squeeze her thighs around his head overwhelming her. She felt him stop and forced her eyes down, her stomach flipping as she watched him lick her, his tongue running the length of her pussy in one stroke.

Arthur's fingers tightened on her thighs as she keened loudly, the back of her head hitting the mirror as he started to suck at her, his tongue entering her and causing the air in her lungs to snag.

"Fuck Arthur," she clawed at his scalp as she tried to gulp in air, "Fuck!"

He nipped at her clit in response, his mouth working her hard. She felt her orgasm start and her breath caught. Right as she was about to tip over the edge, he pulled away and stood, his smile deliciously sinful.

"You bastard," Ariadne swore at him, her palms smacking his muscular, lean chest even as her fingers caressed his skin, eliciting a sharp inhale from him.

He waved a finger back and forth in her face, ignoring her glare. "Not yet," he told her with a wicked smirk as he allowed her to unbutton his trousers hastily and push them down until they pooled at his ankles, "You'll come when I allow you to come."

Ariadne whimpered at his words, her eyes pleading. She leaned forward and kissed him roughly, her tongue licking the seam of his lips, her spine tingling at the taste of herself on his mouth.

"Off the sink," he demanded as he stepped back out of her reach, his eyes roaming her body hungrily, his jaw clenched tight, "Face the mirror, spread your legs, and hold onto the sink."

Ariadne slid off the sink, her eyes taking in the beautiful man standing in front of her with dark eyes and a heated look. If she told herself a couple of days ago that she'd be doing this with Arthur she would have laughed at herself.

Turning, her eyes found his in the mirror.

"So fucking beautiful," he rasped, his voice low and scratchy. His fingers tugged on the waistband of his black boxers and pulled them down, inch by torturous inch. Ariadne didn't feel ashamed in the least bit as she openly watched, her stomach clenching in pleasure.

His hands grabbed her hips lightly, caressing her hip bones, pulling her back against him. Her fingers clenched the rim of the sink hard.

"Lean over," he demanded as she complied without thought, his voice rough and husky. "Jesus Ariadne."

Ariadne's back arched as he sunk into her. The feeling of completion filled her and she jerked back against him, his fingers tightened on her hips with enough force to leave bruises but she didn't care. Days later when she saw the bruises she'd be able to tell herself that this was real.

Sweat gathered on her palms and she draped her upper body across the sink to support herself. The mirror shook when her palms braced themselves on the surface, the white edge of the sink digging into her hips with each harsh snap of his hips.

"Watch me Ariadne." Arthur dragged his blunt nails down her arched spine slowly, his hand snaking around her hip to rub her clit with a flick of his wrist.

Ariadne's eyes snapped up to the mirror, her breath fogging the bottom half of Arthur's face before it cleared, revealing the handsome man that she had somehow, unknowingly fallen in love with.

"How did it feel in the dream Ariadne?" Arthur asked with an innocent voice as he leaned over her, his chin resting on her shoulder and his mouth panting softly in her ear. A loose strand of black hair hung over his right eye and Ariadne's muscles clenched at the sight of this composed man slowly coming undone before her eyes.

"How did it feel with my fingers moving inside of you," he paused, his hips stilling against Ariadne's as her eyes fluttered closed in the beginnings of an orgasm. His hands held her hips firmly against his, his iron tight grip refusing to allow her to move against him. "Not yet Ariadne. You will come when I say you can come. You got yourself into this and only I will give you the release you crave."

"Fucking hell Arthur," Ariadne grit through clenched teeth, her eyes opening slowly to glare at Arthur. He pulled back and thrust his cock into her sharply in warning and her head dropped at the toe curling ecstasy that zinged from her pussy to her chest.

Without thinking about the consequences, Ariadne slid her hand off the mirror and moved it down her body, her fingers finding her clit easily and rubbing frantically.

"Oh no you don't," Arthur growled with menace in his eyes, his hand grabbing her wrist and placing it back on the sink. He snatched her other wrist off the mirror and forced that one onto the sink also, his sweat covered, hot chest pressed flush against her back.

Ariadne bucked her hips in impatience, relieved when Arthur slowly started to move. Her head dropped and her hair fell in a curtain around her face, staining the white sink brown. Lips trailed along the back of her neck, teeth nipped at the skin behind her ear. She never wanted this moment to end, this feeling of the emptiness in her chest being filled, over and over again like the way he was filling her with his cock.

"Ariadne," Arthur whispered as he pounded into her. He dragged one hand to between her legs, guiding her fingers with his to touch herself. With her other hand he cupped the underside of her breast, using her fingers to circle her nipple with increasing pressure until her skin turned a light shade of pink. He drew her nipple tightly between her fingers and forced her to pinch it. Dropping his hands, he watched as she brought herself with her hands and his cock over the edge, her eyebrows drawing together as her neck arched backwards against his shoulder.

Keening loudly, Ariadne breathed out his name as she fell to her forearms on the sink. Her chest rose and fell quickly and her legs shook as she gripped the sides of the sink to keep herself upright. She felt a second, smaller orgasm building up inside of her as Arthur continued to thrust into her, his fingers biting into her hips with an urgency that made her smile with content.

Swallowing heavily, Ariadne watched Arthur orgasm with interest as his face twisted into one of pure happiness as a raw moan came out of his mouth before her own body began to spasm and her head fell against her arm heavily. His name rolled off her lips without thought and she didn't realize she was panting his name until she regained her scattered thoughts.

Glancing up at the mirror, Ariadne chose to ignore the smile on Arthur's face as his eyes roamed her face. She didn't care how adorable he looked with the crinkled corners of his eyes and dimples. An ache formed in her chest, a yearning to see this look on Arthur's face everyday as they woke up next to year other in bed, as they moved about in the kitchen, as they settled onto the couch for a movie.

She stopped herself before she started to hope. This was Arthur she was thinking about, Arthur who loved facts and could handle a gun better than anyone else she knew. Arthur who thought he was dangerous to her and had just given her the best sex of her life. Arthur, the man she loved.

When he pulled away Ariadne felt the gaping hole that was reforming in her chest. She couldn't help but frown at the realization that whenever Arthur was around she didn't feel so utterly alone in the world. Without thinking, Ariadne turned and cupped Arthur's face, her fingers memorizing the smoothness of his skin. Who knew how long until they did this again?

With that thought, Ariadne kissed Arthur softly, sweetly, with the feelings that she had long since lost when her parents had died. She didn't try to start again what they'd just done, instead she put a close to it as she drew away. Unable to part, she leaned back in and kissed him again quickly, the memory of his lips burned into her mind for eternity.

Pulling away, Ariadne quickly dressed. She heard Arthur moving around behind her, buttoning up his now wrinkled shirt and tucking it into his trousers. The empty hole had engulfed her chest now and it was painful to acknowledge, even for someone as strong spirited as Ariadne.

It wasn't until she had opened the door and was halfway across the warehouse before Arthur called out to her.

"Ariadne," he started then hesitated, his fingers smoothing out his tie until it was centered and perfectly straight, a habit she had seen him do many times before, "Ariadne, I can't promise you a perfect relationship."

The words made Ariadne's stomach drop. She didn't want to hear this, the rejection and how what they'd just done would never, could never happen again.

"I'm one fucked up man. There will be jealousy and I will take what I want from you and you will have to be straightforward with me. I can't guarantee that we'll be able to tell the others or that I'll always say and do the right thing and we'll have to be detached during jobs, but I want to try. I've wanted to try for so long and now that it's my chance I'm afraid I'll fuck it up before I even get a chance."

His face was troubled, his mouth set downward in a frown at how hard it had just been to say those words. He had never been one for saying how he felt and Ariadne felt a tug at the realization that he was doing this for her, putting in the effort and struggle for her.

Ariadne smiled brightly at him, her feet moving before she knew it as her stomach fluttered and he rushed forward, his warm fingers burying in her hair as he kissed her deeply, wildly, lovingly.

She could feel the empty cavity in her chest start to fill slowly. It would take time as all things did, but she was patient and would keep waiting until Arthur completely opened up to her and helped her fill the gaping hole, piece by piece.

/|\

"May I ask why there are hand prints on the mirror?" Eames questioned loudly as he came around the corner, his eyes teasing. They quickly found Arthur and Ariadne who were sitting next to each other.

"There are?" Arthur questioned in an emotionless voice, his eyes focused on the paper in his hands. "Maybe you should clean it and keep your hands off it next time."

Eames' eyebrow rose and he smirked. "Dear, do I look like I have female hands to you?" His eyes found Ariadne slyly. "Ariadne is the only female here but you already know that, don't you Arthur?"

"Yes, I do, since I fucked her last night in the bathroom. Expect to find hand prints all over the place from now on."

Eames stared at Arthur in disbelief, not able to comprehend that the man he had recently believed to be utterly boring was admitting to have sex, one of the least boring acts he knew of. His eyes flickered to Ariadne and the darkening blush on her face.

"Do I get to watch?" Eames piped up eagerly, his eyes bright with hope.

"Fuck no," Arthur shot back without hesitation, his eyes flickering up to Eames threateningly. "And don't even think about installing cameras in here or I'll put a bullet between your eyes."

Eames wanted to ask Arthur if he meant in real life or in a dream but his gut told him that if he did ever try to put up cameras (which was a bloody good idea, dammit) he'd never wake up again.

/|\

Saved this one for Christmas Day for a reason. (: Merry Christmas!


End file.
